Poison Revenge
by Carol J Forrester
Summary: Adhemer wasn't finished with William Thatcher by a long shot. Can his friends save him in time, or will out favourite knight find that sometimes, it's the simplist attacks that have the most effect.


_I do not own a Knight's tale of any of the characters_

Chapter One

The walls on the tents pulsed with the wind outside. The night had turned cold, an icy chill creeping across the tournament grounds and working its way through the Knights' tents.

Silently Jocelyn crept through the maze of fabric, making her way towards William's tent. Slipping past the open flap she made her way towards the bed positioned in the centre of the room.

"Will." She called softly, creeping across woven carpet as settled herself on the covers next to sleeping figure. She could just see his blond hair in the dim candle light, plastered close to his face as he shivered beneath the mounds of blankets.

"Will?" placing her hand across his brow, Jocelyn felt the clammy skin beneath her fingers. Groaning, Will's eyes flickered open slightly, glazed with fever he tried to focus on the woman sat beside him.

"Joc...yn" the mumbled, leaning into her cool touch and allowing his eyes to slid closed again.

"Hey." She soothed, using her free hand to search out the bandages across Will's shoulder and to pull away the wrappings. Underneath the flesh around the wound had swollen, turning red and inflamed and oozing a vile coloured puss. Accidently Jocelyn's fingers brushed against the skin, drawing a pitiful moan of pain from Will's lips as he tried to jerk away.

"I'm sorry." She crooned quickly, snatching her hand away stroking his hair comfortingly. Carefully she rewrapped the bandages as best she could, horribly aware of each shallow breath that Will dragged into his lungs.

"I'll be back in a moment." She promised, not even sure if he had heard her words before hurrying back out of the tent towards the celebrations that were still going on. Will must have told his friends to go an enjoyed themselves, choosing to stay behind by himself.

The surgeon had seen to his wound, the physician had said that it would heal fine and that there should be no lasting damage. How could have infection set in so quickly.

The noise of drinking and cheering crashed into Jocelyn as she found herself in the middle of the celebrations, her eyes latching onto where Chaucer, Wat, Roland and Kate all sat in a group, toasting to Will's success. Picking up her speed, Jocelyn scrambled over to them.

"Look who it is." Wat cheered, "Our good Knight's fair Lady."

Roland and Chaucer both chuckled along with Wat, but Kate's face turned solemn as she noticed Jocelyn's panicked features.

"My lady?" she asked concerned,

"Will." Jocelyn gasped, "I went to visit him! He's sick!"

All four leapt up from where they were sat, their seat flying backwards as they sprinted off back towards the tent where Will was, Jocelyn hot on their heels.

"Will!" Roland yelled as he burst into the tent. Hurrying over to where his friend lay he quickly lay a hand across Will's feverish brow, grimacing at the heat.

"I'll fetch the surgeon." Chaucer said, ducking back out and dragging Wat along with him. Kate snatched up a bucket and darted out as well, heading for the nearest well to collect some fresh water as Jocelyn made her way back to Will's bedside.

He seemed even worse than when she had left, in only a short while his fever had worsened and he now seemed trapped in some horrible nightmare from which he couldn't escape. His blankets twisted around him as he shivered violently despite the fierceness of his fever.

Kate came clattering back in, passing Jocelyn a rag and the bucket of water before proceeding to unwrap the bandaged around Will's shoulder. Roland hissed a loud intake of breath through clenched teeth as he saw the infected flesh beneath the linen strips.

Dipping the rag into the water, Jocelyn gently pressed to cool cloth to Will's forehead, wiping it down his jaw and attempting to wash away some of the sheen of sweat that had appeared across his skin.

"The surgeon's here!" Wat yelled, bursting back into the tent with Chaucer and a stranger in tow.

The surgeon looked as if he had literally been dragged from his bed, his hair a rumpled mess and his clothes hanging lopsidedly as he made his way towards his patient.

Shooing both Kate and Roland aside, he bowed his head respectfully to Jocelyn, allowing her to remain by Will's side as he examined the wound and muttered to himself under his breath. Jocelyn had to fight the urge to hit him, when the surgeon's long fingers pressed at the tender flesh, causing Will's muscles to tense and a small whimper to whisper past his lips.

"This is not infection." The surgeon stated seriously.

"The what the hell is it!" Chaucer demanded, his annoyance at being forced to stand back and watched as his friend was suffering was obvious.

"There is poison in the wound." The surgeon told them, rewrapping the bandaged and making his way back out of the tent.

"Well can't you do anything?" Jocelyn asked angrily, wanting to stop the man from leaving but not daring to move away from Will.

"Well unless you can tell me what poison was used, there is little that I can do." The surgeon stated simply.

Roland and Wat grabbed hold of Chaucer's arms, preventing him from punching the surgeon.

"I'm going to kill that bastard!" Chaucer screamed, failing against Roland and Wat when the surgeon had finally left.

"Adhemar must have tipped his lance with some sort of poison." Wat reasoned, "If we can find out what he used then we stand a chance of saving him." The others nodded in agreement.

"We should go now." Roland said grimly, "We don't know how fast acting the poison will be. Kate you stay here with Jocelyn."

"Why!" Kate protested, "Because I'm a woman!"

"No, because Will needs someone here to take care of him." Roland reasoned.

Grudgingly Kate gave in, moving back towards Jocelyn and Will.

"Hurry back." Kate warned them. "Else at least one of us will end up in prison for murder."

_Please comment!_


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